


I Rather Love You

by Mossyrock



Series: Ineffable Husbands Bingo [15]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 6000 Years of Pining (Good Omens), Accidental Body Swap, Aziraphale loves his moronic demon, Fluff, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Mutually Unrequited, Requited Unrequited Love, We love our moronic demon, crowley is a drama queen, crowley is soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 07:02:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21490297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mossyrock/pseuds/Mossyrock
Summary: After the bandstand argument, Crowley thinks his love will never be reciprocated. He's wrong.Neil says they swapped bodies at Crowley's flat the night of the almost Armageddon. My take on how they swapped. Spoiler alert: It involves love confessions, the eagle statue and kissing.For my Ineffable Husbands bingo prompt - Unrequited Love.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Ineffable Husbands Bingo [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1476251
Comments: 10
Kudos: 179





	I Rather Love You

Crowley stormed into his flat, slamming the door and beginning to pace. He needed to keep himself moving or he’d break down and he didn’t have time for that. The Apocalypse was rapidly approaching and he needed a plan.

He’d never felt worse in all of his eternal existence. And considering he was a fallen angel – who'd known the absolute love and peace of Heaven, only to be cast out into the harsh Underworld, filled with nothing but endless pain and suffering – that was saying something.

Walking away from Aziraphale in that bandstand had taken everything he’d had.

He'd thought he and Aziraphale had been friends. But apparently not.

“Apparently, he couldn’t care less about me,” He said out loud to absolutely no one.

He apparently didn’t care if Crowley disappeared from existence. Didn’t care if he ran off to somewhere else in the universe and left him to suffer the Apocalypse without him.

“Well, fine. That’s just fine by me. I don’t need him anyway,” He lied – badly. Luckily there was still no one to call him on it.

Aziraphale would’ve seen through the lie instantly. But Aziraphale wasn’t there. He would never be there.

But that was fine. Crowley was a strong, independent demon, who didn’t need anyone else. Especially not a goody-two-shoes, stuffy angel who cared more about some Great Stupid Plan than his mortal enemy/friend/business associate of 6 millennia.

“Fuck the Stupid Fucking Plan,” He yelled, as if anyone was listening.

Only Crowley did care. Unlike the angel, he cared about their relationship. He cared more than anything.

He was in love with the oblivious and stubborn angel. Head over heels, crazy and stupid in love. Enough to ask him to run away with him like some clichéd romantic hero.

He didn’t expect his love to be reciprocated. That was a given. Demons were unlovable as a defining feature. Whereas Aziraphale was designed for love. It was inevitable that Crowley would fall for him. He was light and love in an adorable, bookish, slightly incompetent package.

As far as Crowley was concerned, anyone who didn’t love him was a fool.

“After all we’ve been through, for him to say that he doesn’t even like me?” He asked his flat incredulously. He received no answer.

“But it’s fine. Whatever.”

Crowley needed to get over his ridiculous crush and what better time than the end of the world? New world, new him. New and improved Crowley.

“I won’t care about anyone or anything. Especially not some backstabbing angel.”

But...

It hurt. By Hell, it hurt. Any piece of a heart he’d still had after the Fall had been left behind, discarded on the cold ground like a piece of trash. Nothing could've hurt as much as being abandoned by the one being he’d counted on. The one being he’d considered his friend. His best friend. The one being he loved above everything else.

“Well, fuck him then,” He hissed at his plants as he stormed past. His rant was picking up steam and his plants began to tremble in fear. 

Crowley would just go off without him. Leave Aziraphale to pick up the pieces of the Apocalypse by himself.

“See how he likes being left behind. Serves him right.”

Only Crowley couldn’t do it. He knew he couldn’t. Even if Aziraphale hated him, Crowley couldn’t leave him to suffer the end alone. And to be honest, he couldn’t just wait it out, not knowing, on the other side of the universe. No matter what, he had to be there, protecting him. Whether Aziraphale knew it or not, Crowley would be with him when the end came. Maybe hiding in a hedge or lurking behind a telephone pole, but there, watching as the angel ascended. Leaving Crowley behind again for good.

Maybe they’d meet on the battlefield, during the ultimate battle between Good and Evil. He hoped not. But if they did, he would let Aziraphale stab him in the heart one last time. It seemed only right. Poetic, in a tragic way.

“When did I become so utterly pathetic?”

Probably the moment he first laid eyes on the angel who now occupied all his last Earthly thoughts, he decided. He'd been hopelessly besotted from first sight. Getting to know him had only made things worse. 

He'd been a love-sick fool. 

He had hoped, even until the end, that Aziraphale would profess his undying and eternal love for him. He’d been stupidly naïve.

But he couldn’t just walk away. Maybe he was a glutton for punishment, but he couldn’t. He wasn’t too proud to beg.

“I’ll go back to Aziraphale and beg for him to run away with me. Again.”

He thought that maybe, if he could just get Aziraphale somewhere safe, even if he still hated him, it would be worth it. He’d deal with his wrath (or not, since angels didn’t do wrath) later. But first, to go, beg for his forgiveness and abscond.

“How hard could that be?”

* * *

The End had come and gone. They’d saved the world. Or at least, Adam had. They’d done… Something? They’d been there, at least.

They'd been the Antichrist’s literal moral support, if nothing else.

Afterwards, they made their way back to Crowley’s flat. They were quiet on the bus, silently holding hands (he wasn't sure whose idea that was, or if it was a conscious decision at all, but he wasn't going to question it), taking strength from each other. Crowley opened his mouth to say something, anything, to let Aziraphale know that he was glad they’d survived, but nothing seemed right. So, he stayed silent.

Being immortal beings, they couldn’t technically feel tired. But Crowley felt utterly exhausted. He’d expended all his energy, mourning the love of his existence and his car, getting Aziraphale back again, pausing time, saving the world... It had been a long day. It had been a long decade.

It had been a long 6 millennia.

And it wasn’t over yet. They had two very angry groups of celestial and occult beings that had labelled them traitors. Which, he supposed, was fair. They technically were. But Crowley thought it was worth it. He’d done the right thing. If that made him a traitor, then so be it.

But they’d wanted a war and been denied. All that anger had to go somewhere.

Crowley worried what Heaven would do to Aziraphale. He didn’t deserve to Fall. He’d tried to stick to the Great Ineffable Plan. He just hadn’t really known what the Plan was. Which was why it was ineffable. Crowley thought that was incredibly stupid (how could anyone follow a plan if they didn’t know what it was?), but he knew better than to say anything to Aziraphale. They’d had that argument before.

Aziraphale’d never done anything but what he thought was best. It might not always have followed Heaven’s directives, but he always did what his conscience told him. How could they punish him for that?

“Last stop!” The bus driver yelled.

They had rather conveniently pulled up directly in front of Crowley’s apartment building, with not a single bus stop in sight. Aziraphale threw him a weak glare, which he answered with an equally exuberant shrug.

They made their way into the flat still in silence. Once inside, Crowley let out a breath he had been holding since they’d boarded the bus.

If Heaven or Hell really wanted to get them, they still could. But Crowley felt infinitely safer in his own apartment, with his angel. It was the home ground advantage. Hastur and Ligur had entered his space and look where that had gotten them.

But he knew if the Big Boss decided to pay them another visit, they wouldn’t get off so lightly.

“Hell of a day, huh?”

He led Aziraphale into his study. He took off his glasses and tossed them onto the desk, wearily rubbing his hands over his face. 

He realized he didn’t have a second seat – beside his rather ostentatious throne – so he miracled up an armchair, like the one from the bookshop. Only the bookshop didn’t exist anymore. It was a smouldering pile of ash.

Aziraphale’s mind apparently took a similar path.

“Oh,” Aziraphale breathed from behind him.

Crowley turned to see the first tear making its way down his angel’s cheek.

“I’m sorry. I can change it..?” He panicked. He didn’t know how to comfort anyone, let alone an angel who had just lost the thing he loved most.

Aziraphale's hand landed on his arm, stilling his body and grinding his brain to a screeching halt.

“Don’t apologise, my dear. It wasn’t your fault. It’s just been a long day.”

He was giving Crowley a reassuring smile, like it was him who needed the support. But the twinkle that usually inhabited Aziraphale’s eyes was absent. He looked as exhausted as Crowley felt.

“How about another bottle of wine?” He pulled himself away from Aziraphale’s grasp.

“Yes. I think some wine might be nice.”

Crowley escaped into his like-new, purely decorative kitchen. He searched his wine selection for a good bottle. He had a few he’d always kept for a special occasion. He figured now might be the best occasion. It might be the last occasion.

He picked his nicest, oldest Chateau Lafite. It was probably worth a fortune, but it didn't matter. 

“Here we go!” He yelled, overly cheerfully, before walking back into the study. He noticed Aziraphale wiping away the evidence of his tears. Crowley didn’t comment. If he could, he would be in tears as well. But he couldn’t break down now. Not in front of Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale took a sip and hummed his appreciation.

“This is delicious,” He said, breathing in the aroma and sighing.

Crowley looked away.

“I’m glad you like it,” He murmured.

Aziraphale was looking around the study, studying the room. He noticed the Alpha Centauri page on the desk.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to go to Alpha Centauri, my dear.”

“Oh, well. You know. It didn’t seem all that appealing. It’s a bit cold for my tastes,” He sniffed. He wisely chose not to let him know the real reason he hadn’t gone.

“And I’m sorry about the Bentley. I know how much it meant to you.”

“It was just a car.” It wasn’t just a car. It’d been his pride and joy. But he could get a new car. What he couldn’t get was another Earth. Or another Aziraphale. 

“You said, when I was discorporated, that you’d lost your best friend..?” Aziraphale asked hesitantly. He was playing with the wine glass in his hands, distractedly swirling the liquid.

“Um, yeah.” Crowley was panicking. He couldn’t know how he felt, could he?

“I’m very sorry. Was it another demon?”

Crowley almost cried with relief.

“No. Not another demon. No,” He looked away. “I’m sorry about the bookshop, angel.” He abruptly changed the subject.

Aziraphale’s eyes fell back to the movement of his wine. His face fell too.

Crowley wanted to take the words back, but it was too late.

“It was just a shop. It’s silly to be so upset over a few books and a building, considering the entire world was nearly destroyed.” He gave a pathetic little laugh.

It broke Crowley's heart to hear it.

“It’s not silly. It was the most important thing to you.” He shut himself up before he said too much. Or sounded too nice.

“My dear, the bookshop was not the most important thing to me.”

“Well, we saved the Earth,” He said, trying to cheer him up, “So it’s ok to mourn the second most important thing to you.”

“It wasn’t the Earth either,” He sighed and looked back at Crowley determinedly. “I’m afraid I’m rather messing this up, aren’t I?” 

“Are you?” Crowley was thoroughly confused.

“I’ve never done this before.”

“Done what?” Crowley felt like he’d missed something.

“I mean to say, not that I’m not saying it very well, that the most important thing to me is... Well, it is to say that it is _you_.” He looked at Crowley expectantly.

Crowley blinked at him in silence. He wished he’d kept his glasses on, to hide his no doubt dumb looking stare.

“Um... You’re also, I mean, well,” He stopped his babbling, before taking a breath and starting again. “You don’t have to say that.”

“I’m not just saying it, Crowley. You have been the most important thing to me for a good many years. Far too many to count. Long before I realised it, I’m afraid.” He shook his head sadly.

“And all of this,” He gestured widely, almost spilling his wine, which Crowley took to mean ‘the world almost ending’, “Just confirmed that I couldn’t live without you.”

Crowley couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He wanted to pinch himself, but he also didn’t want to wake up if this was a dream.

“We’re just associates, angel. You could easily live without me,” He scoffed.

“I’m afraid not, my dear. You see, I rather love you.”

Crowley was now sure that he had in fact died, and this was all a bizarre after-life.

“But, you can’t.”

“Whyever not?” Aziraphale humphed.

“Because you’re an angel. And I’m a demon,” He argued.

“So?”

“And you said no! You would’ve rather died here on Earth than gone away with me,” His voice broke, betraying his hurt.

Aziraphale leant forwards in his seat to take Crowley’s hand again, like they had on the bus. 

“My darling, I wanted nothing more than to go with you. But I couldn’t. I still believed we could save the world. I still believed we’d be alright,” He said softly. “I couldn’t just abandon the world and my duties that easily.”

When Crowley stayed silent, Aziraphale sighed. 

“I needed to try, Crowley. I was wrong to say those things to you, at the bandstand. I shouldn’t have lied to you. I’m sorry. But if I’d said yes, imagine what would’ve happened? Adam needed us, needed _you_, to tell Lucifer to go away. If he hadn’t, we’d be at war. And I couldn’t stand the thought of that.”

Another tear slipped down his cheek. He looked away, eyes landing on the eagle statue that Crowley had ‘rescued’ several decades ago.

“That statue – is it from the church? You kept it, all these years?” His voice was filled with breathless wonder. His blue eyes were impossibly wide and searching. 

Crowley couldn’t bear to answer him. But he nodded.

“That night,” Aziraphale said, still staring at the statue, “I realised what we really were to each other. You saved me – and the books. You didn’t need to. Especially after our fight. But you did. It was selfless. And nice.” He turned back to Crowley with a wavering smile.

“How many times have I told you –" Crowley hissed at him.

“Really, my dear? You’re still going to object to being called nice? You saved humanity today. That was the ultimate good thing to do.”

Aziraphale had a point, Crowley had to concede. But he wasn’t going to be happy about it.

“I realised that you cared for me. And that I cared for you. Far more than I’d let myself truly appreciate.”

Crowley looked into Aziraphale’s watery eyes and saw what he’d longed to see, but had been blinded to, for millennia.

“You love me?” He whispered.

Aziraphale’s hand tightened around his.

“I do. More than anything,” He sighed. His face was lit by a massive smile, tears still falling.

Crowley let out a sob.

“Me too. I mean, I love you too,” He said, tugging on Aziraphale’s hand until they were both perched on the edge of their seats, knees knocking together.

“I know, my darling. I think I always knew. I’m sorry it took me so long to figure it out.” 

Aziraphale's other hand reached up, cupping his cheek. His thumb traced his snake marking, making him shiver. 

“It’s ok. We’re here now. Until all Heaven and Hell breaks loose,” He laughed. His chest was filled to bursting, as Aziraphale smiled softly at him.

Without thinking, they moved closer, until their lips met, so softly. It wasn’t a good kiss by human standards. They weren't moving, they were just breathing into each other, filling each other with the love they’d felt for countless years.

A sudden, unnameable feeling overtook them. When they pulled apart in shock, they were confronted by their own startled faces.

Crowley made a bizarre shrieking noise and toppled backwards from his throne.

“Oh, do be careful, my love. That’s my corporation you’re damaging. I only just got it back,” Aziraphale fussed, rushing to pick Crowley up off the floor.

“Wha..?” Crowley asked.

“I’m not sure,” Aziraphale began. Suddenly, a bolt of inspiration and understanding hit him. “Choose your faces wisely! This is what she meant!”

The excited, almost manic smile looked so out of place on his own face that it took Crowley a few seconds to catch up.

“We switch places! Yes, angel!” He felt Aziraphale’s most radiant smile lighting up the face he wore, but he couldn’t stop it. “Agnes has done it again.”

“Do you think this means we’ll be safe?”

“I think so. When has ol' Agnes ever been wrong before?” 

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Aziraphale laughed.

“You might well be. But don’t worry, so will I. Let’s have some fun, shall we?” 

**Author's Note:**

> Neil and Douglas (who wonderfully fuel our fanfictions) confirmed the eagle statue was the one from the church. It wasn't just Aziraphale that remembers that night. These ineffable idiots, I swear (I mean Aziraphale and Crowley. Not Neil and Douglas, obviously). 
> 
> I like to think they swapped accidentally and scared the crap out of themselves. As smart as they are, when it comes to each other, these two are straight up dumb arses. Am I wrong? Tell me I'm wrong.


End file.
